Who Is She

Alone

Hey :) hope you enjoy this chapter ^^

Clary's POV

When I get home I'm dripping blood onto my jumper that is now a deep crimson colour mixed with green, not a look that most would go for but hey I'm all about setting new trends. I get my keys out of my back pocket trying to balance my nose at an angle that won't hurt so much, hissing slightly as my nose moves a few inches I curse those assholes and their need to show off.

Finally grabbing my keys I shove them into the lock and turn wondering if I can get up to my room and clean this all up before somebody sees and starts freaking out, I throw a little prayer up asking that my mother is, for some reason, in the garden picking potatoes she and Valentine planted a few weeks ago.

Not going to happen though because the moment I open the door I can hear her and the others talking happily in the kitchen eating something that smells very like a chicken curry. Groaning I decide to just head straight up into my room, no need to wreck that happy picture with the bleeding girl that is myself. So I close the door as quietly as possible and head up the many stairs we have to my sanctuary.

As I go up though I forget the stupid third to last step that is always creaking. I press down on it and it's creak is loud and clear through the whole house, the talking stops and my mother calls out; "Who's there, Clary?" and I have to fight the urge to say "No I'm a mass murderer with keys, hold on while I go upstairs and change then we can get down to business."

Instead I sigh inwardly and then say; "Hey mum, yeah it's me." Still standing there blood being absorbed into my jumper, waiting for the answer I know is coming. "Why are you sneaking up the stairs honey? Come down here and have dinner with us, it's your gran's famous chicken and prawn curry!"

My stomach rumbles but there isn't a chance of me going in there looking like I am right now, so I ignore the noises and say I can't because I have to have a shower then finish some homework. Jocelyn just says the normal mum stuff like "Don't work too hard darling" and "Don't use all the hot water, we have to wash the dishes remember". I assure her I won't then charge up the last steps onto the landing and jump into my room slamming the door behind me breathing in a sigh of relief, they didn't see my nose so all I have to do is wait in here until it stops and then I can go downstairs for food.

Throwing all my clothes into the wash basket I walk into the bathroom to have a shower and see how much of this blood I can wash off. As soon as the water turns hot I'm in letting the water soak my skin, I turn and arch my head towards the shower head letting the water hit my nose. The water turns slightly pink as the dried blood comes away from my nose leaving it red and raw which is better than the alternative.

When I'm satisfied that I've got all the blood off of my nose as I can I turn the shower off and get changed into baggy bottoms and a band shirt my dad always wore when he was just longing around the house. Sighing I grab a towel for my hair wrap it up then go towards my room to start my homework.

Humming a song I've had in my head for a while now I push my door open not expecting anybody to be in there with me, I have to gasp because there standing in the middle of my room is my mother visibly shaking holding something in her hands. When she turns around I can't help but curse, she's holding my bloody jumper in her shaking hands as she looks up at me confusion etched into her eyes.

"What happened here" she whispers holding out the jumper as if I hadn't got a clue what she was on about. I edge closer to her scared one wrong word would send her into a frenzy, though how do I explain it without telling her some of the truth? Because even if I did lie it would still have to involve somebody hurting me.

"Mum…. I can explain" I say nervously edging closer and closer to her, she sobs hands shaking head bent looking at my duvet cover which I've had since my tenth birthday when I wanted a skateboard but got a daisy flowered patterned duvet set instead. Still shaking her head she swallows and looks up and asks; "Who did this to you?"

I stop in my tracks, I can't help but feel a little hurt. What am I three and can't defend myself, what if this was somebody else's blood huh? But I can't say that and I knew it. Instead I just sigh all fight coming out of me when I say; "I was at the gym-"I'm cut off by Jocelyn snorting in disbelief looking at anything but me nodding slightly.

"Why am I not surprised?" she says looking me fully this time. "Why is that ever since you started going to that god forsaken gym, you come home broody and bloody, no time to spend with your family the people who, incidentally, love you most. All you ever do is go to that bloody gym get beaten up come home and sleep!" by now she's screaming and I'm shell shocked. My mother was never one to scream at me, she knew full well when to discipline me but never liked to shout.

Jocelyn breaks down crying again and I'm left wondering if I should go comfort her or stay where I am. Obviously I should've stayed where I was because when I went and sat down beside her she starts crying into my shirt staining it with her tears, when she's slightly better she sniffs and looks at the shirt and hiccups. "Your father's Kansas shirt" she hiccups, I nod staying silent not wanting to tip her over the edge again.

"Your father wouldn't have wanted you to do this, you know" she mumbles as she looks for a tissue in her pocket. I blanch, how dare she try bring my dad into this when she's just worried what the freaking neighbours will think seeing her daughter bleeding. I get off the bed feeling claustrophobic hot and cold sweats coming over me, I move away from Jocelyn who is still sitting on the floor jumper in one hand a tissue in another.

Sitting on my desk chair I say; "You have no right to bring dad into this" in as calm a voice as I can muster. Jocelyn looks up startled tears still in her eyes, she scrambles up and comes towards me saying; "Oh Clary that's not what I meant" but I back away from her leaving her hands in the air hanging there waiting for a hug that's never going to come.

"You have no idea what dad would or wouldn't want me to do" I say again my anger levels rising and rising, Jocelyn just comes and places her hand on my shoulder and affirms that she wouldn't "But honey he wouldn't want his only daughter coming back every night bloody, now would he" she asks putting on the 'I'm a mother so I should know these things' voice that makes me lose it completely.

I jump up causing Jocelyn to stumble back slightly, anger is coursing through me and I don't know how to quench it unless I make the person in front of me hurt like she has me. So I'm not even thinking straight when I say; "Yeah well the same man, who incidentally chose to spend the rest of his life with you didn't exactly say "When I die feel free to move in with the first man you meet after me" now did he? But hey you did that fine and quick!" I scream at her.

Jocelyn is on the floor shaking tears falling fast and furious from her eyes, by now Jon and Valentine has heard the noise and have entered the room. I should care but all I feel is unbelievable satisfaction in seeing my mother in pain, so when valentine comes forward telling me that I've said enough I say "And the one you chose isn't that pretty looking either, you cocked out mum. Big time" while Jocelyn gasps and Valentine looks at me with a mixture of disappointment and disbelief which just angers me more and more.

"Now everybody out of my room NOW! This isn't some freaking bed and breakfast show here, NOW!" when nobody moves from where they are standing, Valentine grabs Jocelyn's hand and carries her into their room closing the door behind them. I sit down on my bed tears threating to spill, I can't let them though because still standing at the door is Jon who looks shell shocked at my little display.

Wiping some blood from my nose I look up at the ceiling as a tear falls leaving a little snail trail on my check. "Clary" the voice from the door says after what feels like an hour of us just sitting there not saying anything, but it's only been three minutes and in that three minutes I've given up on everything, I just want to be alone and I tell him so.

He's not going though and I wonder if I throw something at him will he leave, doubtful so I just repeat what I've already said; "Just leave me alone Jon. Please" my voice cracking slightly at the end, another tear falls down my check and I really wish he'd leave so I can be alone when I cry. He just stands there for a few more minutes than nods and closes the door leaving me in my solitude.

When I hear the click I let the tears come, and they do come thick and fast streaming down my face making my vision blurry as I sit here and let them fall. I cry from the bottled pain, the pain I've caused my mother when I know she's been trying her best to get me to feel comfortable and safe in this new environment and here am taking every opportunity to poke holes in her good work.

I also cry about Jace, yes that stupid guy with a big ego. I cry for him because he's gone back to that thing and that mustn't be easy, also, and this is what hit home with me. I Cry because of what he said to me earlier, about not needing anybody. I snort wiping away a stray tear that didn't make its way down my face. Yes because I'm so good at being on my own, look at me. I'm a mess and I have no idea how much more of this I can take.

That's when I snap. I can't exactly explain it, but something logically inside me decided that now would be the time to shut off and leave me with all the pain and I can't take it. Slowly I get up and walk over to my bedroom door listening for any noises. Not hearing any I open the door and pad across the landing into the bathroom closing the door behind me.

I go over to the sink and turn the little bathroom light on eliminating my horrible face. My eyes are puffy and red, checks are all wet and my nose is red and raw. A normal person would notice the good qualities about themselves during this situation, maybe your eyes hair. Not with me, all I can see is weak, pathetic, useless, loner and its killing me.

Screaming I pick up the little baskets of toiletries and toss them around the room breathing heavily, then without even thinking my fist is connecting with the little mirror and blinding pain is running up my left hand. Collapsing against the bathtub I look at my left hand and groan. Tears in my skin are dripping blood and there are pieces clinging onto now torn pieces of skin.

Banging on the door and "Clary" shows I'm not alone here anymore, I ignore them ripping the little shards out of my knuckles. Hissing I rip the last piece of glass and lie back on the bath closing my eyes ignoring the battering of the door. What I'm not expecting is the numbness washing over me after I ripped the last shard out. I can't feel anything….

Opening my eyes I look around for something while the noise from outside the bathroom continues, I continue to ignore it looking for what I need from the mess on the floor that I should probably feel bad about but can't be right now.

When I find the thing I'm looking for I grin, opening my left hand I take a breath then use the large shard of glass to cut a long thin cut along the top of my hand hissing with the pain. Then just as I'm about to finish the numbness starts again and I relish it, look forward to it.

Not even caring that somebody is banging on the door or I made the ultimate mess just that a wave of numb is coming over me washing all the pain and hurt away. I smile just as the blackness takes me.

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